


Chains And Things We Can't Untie

by unseenbox



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24444448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unseenbox/pseuds/unseenbox
Summary: Rei visits Touji in the hospital. It's odd, being on this side of a hospital bed, but not as odd as what Touji says to her.
Relationships: Ayanami Rei/Suzuhara Touji
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2
Collections: Little Black Dress Exchange 2020





	Chains And Things We Can't Untie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chacusha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chacusha/gifts).



> For chacusha -- I've never participated in an Exchange before, so I have no idea what I am doing. But I was excited to write for Evangelion, and especially for Rei, who's also my favorite character. Thank you for the inspiration, and I hope you enjoy the fic!

A theory, needing testing: if not one, then another will suffice. Rei knows the results before the experiment takes place. Knows it from the memories that are hers yet not hers. The heart that is hers yet not hers. The body that is hers yet not hers. But she is an outlier, kept apart from them. It is true for her, but it may not be for the other Children. She understands this. Agrees, because there is no other choice. She has never had another choice.

No one does. They all learn this from the thirteenth Angel. Bardiel, though none will ever know save those who will not tell. An intruder in their midst in the form of a virus that infects and ensnares and takes hold. Does not let go until it is destroyed. None are spared. Not the unit, left in pieces. Not Shinji, hands stained with blood that is not his. Not Soryuu, with limits she will not accept. Not herself, a shell cracked open.

But Suzuhara most of all. Crushed and torn apart. Used and tossed away. When she closes her eyes, she sees him. Blood and LCL. No distinction. These memories did not happen to her, so why does she see them? What is this pain the images cause? Different from the echo of her torn arm. This pain, it is… it is beyond her. Too much. Burning inside. Does the Angel still command her pulse? Or has something else contaminated her? She does not know.

No. She does not know herself.

But others know her when reflected through their eyes. Suzuhara did. Once, under the sun and sky. Saw the space of her heart where SHINJI is written, where she did not see it herself. He will not see her again. If he sees. If he lives. Does he live? Has he been discarded? Killed? Replaced? These questions she cannot answer. But she knows where answers can be found, and so she goes to find them.

His hospital room is similar to the one she knows. The bed is the same. The sink. The machines. The smell of antiseptic. Some differences. Letters pinned to the wall. Chairs scattered around the floor. A breeze that shakes the shutters. Silent, save for the buzz of electricity and cicadas. The window cracked open where the light pours in. His body lies on the bed. There is space where a leg should be. Bandages hold the rest of him together. Tubes carry his blood and medicine.

She stands over him, a shadow against the bed. His chest rises and falls. A breath? Yes. He is breathing. He lives. Touji. The name slots into mind.

His eye slides open. Searches. Rests on her. He croaks. “Ayanami?”

She cannot speak. Her mouth is open, but words will not form. Her eyes burn, but tears will not fall. Her hands are empty, but they twitch. Longing. What do they long for? To hold or be held? To still or be stilled? The room spins. She remains standing.

His eye slides shut. Closed, but restless. Upturned lips. A smile? “No worries. I can’t talk much, either.”

She exhales. “This feeling… it is worry?” This ache in her heart?

Touji laughs until it turns into a cough. “Yeah. Sucks, don’t it?”

“I am not sure.” An ache, yes. Different from the ache she knows as loneliness. Not as cold. Not as quiet. This worry is sharper. Bright and searing. A light that lances between the ribs. Reflected everywhere like sun through raindrops. “I will need to study it more.”

“Don’t strain yourself.” Cloth shuffles. Machines whir. He breathes. “It’ll come to you eventually.”

Puzzling. She is puzzled. “How do you know that?”

“’Cause I do.” A shrug. Careless.

Frustration. She knows this one more than most. “That answer is not helpful.”

Touji laughs again. Barking. Warm, somehow. Like being told a secret. “Should’ve known better than to try and sneak one past you.” He opens his eyes. Sees her. Smiles. “You’re different from the rest of our class. You know. Me and Kensuke and Hikari and everyone.”

Cold. She feels cold. Ice in her veins. Ice in her heart. Ice in her throat. He knows.

He continues. “But that’s not bad. You’re just you. Quiet, and kind of odd, but… you feel stuff, same as all of us. That’s you, Rei Ayanami.”

The ice thaws. Cracks in half. He doesn’t know.

She knows. “How do you know her when I do not?”

He falls back against the pillow. “You’re standing too close to her.” He frowns. “You?” He groans. “Words are hard.” He waves his hand. Banishes the thought. “But the point is… I dunno.” A shrug. “It’s easier to see things from far away. And, hey, for what it’s worth, the view’s not too bad from here.”

“Your view is clouded. You cannot see all of me.” She has no end. A repeating wave. Infinite. Endless.

“Probably not.” He coughs. Breathes. “But you can’t see all of me, either, so fair’s fair.”

“There is nothing fair about it.”

“Nope, nothing.” He agrees. “But do you wanna sit with me for a while, anyway?”

“My presence will not change the outcome.” The future is clear, yet not clear. Hazy as it approaches. He may die. He may live. Her hands are bound. Incapable of action.

“So what?” He exhales. Softens. “Sit with me anyway.”

She thinks. Turns the options over. Stay or go. See or be seen. In the end, there is only one answer. Inevitable.

“I will stay.”

She sits in the nearest chair. Hard plastic beneath her. Only a metal frame and machinery between her and the bed. Touji is easier to see from here. Pained eyes. Splintered hands. Alive when he should not be. She closes her hands in front of her. Keeps them on her lap. To herself. She must not reach out. Strange, how that is something that she wants. She says nothing. Silence fills the empty space.

Touji breaks it. “Figures. Try to get my sister out of the hospital and I just land myself in one.”

“That is why you piloted the EVA.” She sees. Knows the weight of promises made and never kept. Being torn in two. The repeated demonstration: comply. Comply, or we will tear your arm from your side. Comply, or you will die. And then you will be replaced. Once, Commander Ikari saved her. Pulled her from wreckage. Burned his hands. Smiled at her. Now he does none of those things. She is a tool, used to sharpen other tools.

“Yeah.” He breathes. “There was so much I didn’t know.”

She knows. “You have learned the lesson well.”

“Is that supposed to cheer me up?” Eyebrows scrunched together. Trying to discern. Study.

“No. But it is something that is true, and so it must be acknowledged.”

He looks to the ceiling. Frowns. Hands attempt to clench, stymied by the bandages. “It’d be so much easier if I could just settle things up with Commander Ikari. Deck him right in the jaw.”

She frowns. Severe. “I do not recommend it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbles. Groans. “Not gonna happen.” He laughs. Once, sharp. “But it’d be worth it, just for the look on his face.”

“It would accomplish nothing, as you are nothing to him.” All of them are tools. Lifeless things. Puppets on strings. Touji played his part, but his part is over now. He will die, and he will not be replaced. What need is there of a pilot when there is no more need for pilots?

“I know.” Quietly. Soft, barely heard over the machines. “Believe me, I know.” He exhales. Closes his eyes, then blinks them open. They are wet. “But he’s wrong. I’m not nothing just because he thinks I am.” He frowns. Wipes his eyes with the pillow. Looks over. Sees her. “Rei. You’re not nothing just because he thinks you are.”

“He values me greatly.” He will not let her die. He will tear her limb from limb, but she will not die. He will drown her, but she will not die. He will carve her soul apart, but she will not die.

“Yeah, but… probably for stuff he wants to do. What about what you want?”

“There is nothing I want.”

“Then why are you here?”

She is lost. Where is she? A hospital room. No. Not quite. She is in Touji’s hospital room. The machines whir. Cicadas chirp outside. The room is humid. Clammy. Sticky. The chair is hard. Pointy. Digs into her. A lump on the bed. A body. No. A person. Touji. Why is she here? It was not commanded. She is capable of motion. She could leave. She could have left. She did not. She is here because she chose to be. She is here because she chooses to be. Why? Why did she choose this? To see him? Speak with him?

Oh.

“I am here for you.” Perhaps a question. Speech fails where her heart does not.

Touji exhales. His eyes are… warm? “See? Wanting stuff’s not so bad.” He laughs. The machines beep. “It just takes some practice, that’s all.”

“I see.” It is foolish to want things. More foolish, how she cannot stop herself. For a moment, perhaps she can pretend. Pretend that the choices she makes will matter. Pretend that what she wants is possible. Pretend that what she feels is not irrelevant. Strange, how easy it is to pretend when Touji is around. She opens her mouth and words come out. “Though I do not understand.”

“That’s alright. I’ll be here for you, too, you know.”

She knows. Somehow, she knows. She will try to remember this, even if she forgets herself. But that is somewhere far from here, at some other point in time. For now, there is this hospital room, and two living beings inside.


End file.
